


As Long as He Loves His Strings

by Puppedeer



Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Anxiety Attacks, Bill Cipher Being Bill Cipher, Implied Mabel/Pacifica - Freeform, M/M, NSFW in later chapters, Older Dipper Pines, Older Mabel Pines, Older Pacifica Northwest, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Panic Attacks, Triangle Bill Cipher, bpm (derogatory), no beta we die like this fandom is., so watch out ooo spooky, soon, soon he will be a man
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-16
Updated: 2021-01-18
Packaged: 2021-03-08 17:33:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 4,310
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27040534
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Puppedeer/pseuds/Puppedeer
Summary: Dipper's life went from mundanity to thrill back when he was 12, yet as he left, it flipped. Now stuck in college, he's forced to deal with repetitive day and boring settings, missing his life back in the Falls. That changes into the second semester of his Freshman year, as signs and happenings from something pull him back to the falls to reunite with an old pal.
Relationships: Bill Cipher/Dipper Pines, Pacifica Northwest & Mabel Pines
Comments: 18
Kudos: 39





	1. Adante- Contrary to the Accellerando

His favorite dreams were those in which he was floating. Not an anti-gravity sort of floating, more like an endless ocean of a calm gel. Constant calm in total darkness. A lot of these types of dreams happened after he came back from Gravity Falls, and they slowly faded until he wasn’t having any dreams at all. It was becoming Dipper closing his eyes and waking up seemingly in an instant- like it was the same second.

The mornings repeated in Piedmont. It was hot, it was sunny, it was slow and easy. Dipper didn’t _hate_ it, he was just tired of waking up the same way. Nothing was ever different. As he made his way to the pantry in his dorm room, he tripped on the torn-up tile on the floor he’d been meaning to put back down. ‘Goddammit-’ He hissed, pushing himself up from the ground. He pushed the tile back down with his foot, seeing it was gonna snap soon. He took a deep breath, grabbing a stale poptart from the pantry and shoving it in his mouth, not having the patience for anything else

Hot, slow, and easy were never going to be Dipper’s thing, especially at 8:46 am, walking to class. The mundanity and the dreary feeling of it all, the weight of his satchel that made him lean ever so slightly as he walked, and the way that nothing loomed or followed. No eyes glowed, no smiles had too many teeth, nothing weird was happening. Even just spending a little time in the Falls around all that weirdness made him crave it. He found comfort in that discomfort. 

He’d even took up daydreaming, imagining sitting on the roof of the shack. He’d take in the view and the scent of the Autumn air. He’d embrace the warmth of his blue sweatshirt and feel the chilling air attempt to sneak past the threads onto his arms. He’d watch the sun set over evergreens, and map out the constellations as the sky melted down its rainbow of colors down into inky black, speckled with the infinite stars. Infinite, vast expanses of unknown skies gazing down upon him as the moon began its gentle, cradling glow upon him.

“Pines!” His professor shouted. He sat up in his desk, heart jumping up to his throat before sinking into his abdomen as he saw his peers squinting at him. “Yessir? I mean, I apologize? I-” Dipper whined, shivering at the ever obvious mental judgment the other students were conjuring up in their brains. The scrutiny and the underlying disgust at this 20-year-old who still fantasizes in class. He felt like the birthmark on his forehead reshaped itself to spell out ' **LOSER** ' in big bubble letters.

“Your parents paid for this class. I suggest you stop wasting their money and actually _give a little bit of attention_ .” The burly, tired professor scolded monotonously, sneering a bit as he turned towards the board, slapping the yardstick against the surface so hard it seemed like the equation written on it jumped a little. “If P is true, but statement Q is false, give me the formula for if R is false.”

Dipper stared bovinely forward, still processing the events that lead to him getting here. He had never zoned out this deep. He was just passing the campus. This was his 2nd period. He checked the clock, seeing the time was accurate; he was supposed to be in this class. Shaking his head, he quickly scrawled something down in his notebook. “P=4, R*Q≠P?” The man nodded, writing the solution down. “Anyone else?”

Dipper’s day went on. He finished his classes up, took a quick nap back at his dorm, and headed to the fountain to read. Despite the California heat, he enjoyed being outside. There were small sounds on the campus that calmed him down. Birds chirping, people calmly chattering as they pass, the water from the fountain splashing in a complex, soft rhythm. He’d already been sat there so long, invested in his book. That is until the calm of the fountain behind him was disrupted. A slight splash- slightly louder than someone throwing a coin in.

Turning was likely a bad idea. What looked to be a mass of shimmering gold spread through the fountain’s water until it filled whatever was clear before. The water jet in the middle of the feature stopped, seeming clogged. Dipper leaned forward, hand dipping into the water. Once it did, the golden shimmer turned into a vile inky black, the fountain unclogging and splashing the black substance onto Dipper. He gasped in, eyes shut to prevent the mess from getting in them. It felt disgusting, like a mix of sticky hairspray and pen ink. Though, as his eyes opened, there was nothing. The fountain was clear. He was perfectly dry. All that was left with him was that feeling.   
Shower. Shower  _ now _ .   
  
His thumb rubbed the strap on his satchel as he power walked to his apartment, stumbling on the messy stairs and missing the keyhole so many times there was almost definitely a dent made somewhere on the doorknob. His satchel was thrown onto a chair haphazardly, the boy rushing to grab new, fresher feeling clothes. He sped down to the communal bathrooms on his floor, locking the door behind him (which, he wasn’t technically supposed to do, but there’s 4 other bathrooms in the building.)    
  
Water rushed over Dipper’s body as the feeling of ick and grime melted away. The room soon filled with fog from the hot water, creating a haze of easement around him. This was better, he thought. Even if there wasn't anything on him, it felt like everything was rolling off his body with the beads of water; stress and all. 

His brown curly spirals of hair flattened down, now like a dark curtain over the birthmark on his forehead. The scent of cheap, dollar store soap soothed him, a familiar therapeutic smell. He listened to the water drips come to a slow occasional drop as he stepped out. He toweled himself off, letting out a breath that shoved all worry off his chest. Though, that breath was sucked right back in when he saw the mirror above the sinks. “ _Holy shit._ ” His voice shuddered, staring at the piece before him.

In all honesty, Dipper didn't know what he was looking at. It was jagged lines, all across the glass. It looked like a wordless, numberless blueprint, or a map that led to nothing. It was all right angles and points drawn on the fog by no one. By someone. Someone who should be gone, so it can't be. Dipper’s mind was shoved straight back into a frenzied, tight-breathed panic, sprinting back to his dorm room in his towel.


	2. Cassette Kids and Virtual Assistance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dipper consults the most reliable source available for guidance: Mabel.

“So, let’s recap here,” Mabel’s voice rang through the speakers of Dipper’s laptop. He was giving attention to the situation at hand, whilst also knitting a full, purple sweater. “You’re being haunted or something? And no one else sees what’s happening?”  
“Well I don't know about the mirror thing, I didn't exactly want to see if anyone else saw what I saw. Plus they’d probably think I did it. I'm sorry, this sounds crazy, doesn't it?” He hushed out, fingers nervously toying with the string's aglet of his blue hoodie- a spot that had been used for nerves many times before, fraying and faded in that one spot. However, Mabel gave her twin a look. Not a look of anything negative, just one of disbelief. “Dipper, I believe you. Did you forget that I literally kissed a mermaid? And a bunch of gnomes almost? And a princess?”

  
“I don't remember the princess one?”

“It’s not important-” She snickers, flipping her hair that's been growing out quite a lot since she was younger. “Anywho, what are we doing about your ghost friend then?” Dipper sighed at the question, laying back in his chair. He stares at the ceiling, blinking slowly at a water-damaged spot that he’d meant to get fixed. “I mean, if I had my journal, it’d be easier to at least gauge what level this ghost is. The only categories I remember are 1 and 10, which… let's hope it isn't the latter.”  
Mabel holds a string in her mouth, tangling her knitting needles in it as she offhandedly says “Maybe you need some professional help. Maybe from some super smarty dude who maybe wrote some helpful books once?” She lisps past the yarn.

  
“Ford? But I’m in SoCal and he’s up in Oregon. And I can't just _call him over here_ , he’s busy.” Mabel lets a breath out through her nose, a sort of little laugh, dropping the string in her mouth. “Dipper. You’re in college. You’re smart. If he can't come there, you have to..”  
Dipper paused, knowing how the sentence would end. It’s been so long. And he was in college now. But as Mabel said, he’s smart, does he need to be here? He looked back at the screen, staring at the keys before looking into the camera and nodding with a little grin. “Thanks, Mabel. I knew I could come to you for this.” Mabel smiled right back, fluffing out a new, finished sweater. “Anytime! Now, I gotta work on a sweater for Paz, we got an Autumn party to host tomorrow. See ya, Boogerhead!”  
“See ya, Fartface.” Dipper waved as the application closed. He let his arm fall to the armrest, chair swiveling to the left a bit as he looked at the floor of his dorm.  
This was important. And he had to weigh options here. Go to the Falls and confirm his theory on what this was-whatever the theory even _was_ , or stay and rot in college. And possibly die, this ghost or demon _could very well be malevolent._ Dropping out of college would be a big leap, but his parents wouldn’t be too mad- they wouldn't have to pay title IV funds back, it’d be money-saving, anyways. ‘And I wasn’t paying attention anyway!’ Dipper thought, mocking his teacher’s words from earlier. Get bent, Professor Pellerin. 

Well, that settled it then. He grabbed his satchel and the wheeled luggage he’d brought when he moved in, packing it with his stuff haphazardly. He’d get the forms done later. Now was time for action. He carried his stuff out to his shitty, beat Subaru, stuffing it all in the trunk, getting in the driver’s seat. With a few sputters and key turns, the old vehicular beast powered on as punched ‘Gravity Falls’ into the search bar of his phone’s GPS. He put an old tape into the tape player on the dash. Yeah, the car was an old piece of junk, but he kinda liked it that way. His rich brown eyes were full of determination, his nerves slowly sinking and melting to nothing as he drove North.


	3. 676 Miles - 10 Hours = Coincidence

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Midnight drives are awfully calming.

How far had he gone now? What time was it? Dipper blinked slowly, looking blankly at the road ahead. He was getting tired, yeah, but even if the sound of the GPS was slowly fading into the whirring of the tires against asphalt, he could still keep going for a few more hours. He took a second to note the odd placement of those streetlamps ahead. Having two right next to eachother was uncommon, to say the least. He seemed to be coming up on them rather fast, which was odd since he wasn't speeding. It clicked in his head, eyes widening from their drowsy state as he sputtered "Headlights-" quickly, swerving out of the way as the truck safely sped past him.

He pulled to the side of the road, clutching his heart. Ok, yeah. He needed rest. He turned the car off, putting it in park, out of the way of any cars that may pass. Dipper let out a sigh of relief. He'd process the fact that he almost just got mowed over by a semi in the morning. For now, he locked the doors, set an alarm on his phone, crawled into the backseat, and shut his eyes. It wasn't all that cozy, but it'd do for now.

His eyes opened. He was surrounded by fire, raging stories above him. Trees that were familiar in height were stripped of their leaves right in front of him, the branches curling and crumbling to dust with each gust of wind, ashes now covering the boy's skin in speckles. He looked around himself, seeing the shack was behind him, set ablaze as well. _God._ He felt like he'd been standing there, watching this stage of his past go up in literal flames while, so far, he was unscathed, the grass around him still lush and green. He choked on tears he couldn't feel at all, but he could see. His vision blurred up from the tears until he blinked.  
  
Dipper shot up, face dry, nothing on fire, still in his car. Just a dream. Just a dream, nothing more. He blinked a few times, before grabbing his phone and silencing the alarm that was trying to chime out over his loud thoughts. Things were a bit too eventful right now for him. He climbed back up into the driver's seat, heading back out onto the open road. There was only a few more hours left- sadly leaving him a few more hours with the image of blazing conifers seared in his mind. 

Crossing state lines was interesting. The name should be changed in Dipper's opinion. You'd think of lines as hard separation, but as he crossed from Hilt, CA into Colestin, OR, there was no immediate change. Just the slow appearance of more tree-riddled roads. More and more, a few animals crossing the street as he drove. Finally, the 10 hours of driving paid off. 'WELCOME TO GRAVITY FALLS'. Dipper smiled at the sign, sighing as he traversed the town's roads. Those who were out and about almost didn't recognize him- but those who recognized the brown, messy curls, the almost shy smile, or just about anything about the boy, gave a wave. Dipper Pines was back, and he was here to figure out just what was happening here.


	4. The Mr. Kotter Effect

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warm welcomes and smiles were all around him, even from those who had their constant grimaces on.

"And over here, we see the rock that looks like a face rock! The rock that looks like a face." Soos explained to the small group, before pointing the 8-ball ended cane at the crowd as they asked the usual variations of questions. "Does it look like a rock?" "Is it a face?"  
"Seems like a lowly cash grab made by some old cheat." The last raised hand commented, gaining a few gasps. Soos recognized that voice, eyes widening a little. "Dude?" He asked before Dipper 'excuse me'd and nudged through the little crowd. Once to the front, Soos immediately greeted him with a tight hug. "Dude! I thought I'd never see you again!" He yelled (right next to Dipper's ear. Whatever, he was excited, it's fine)

  
"I missed you too!" Dipper strained out, the air being slowly crushed out of his lungs. Soos let go of Dipper, allowing the boy to kneel over for a moment to catch his breath. "Uh! You dudes can all explore the gift shop, I've got important family things to attend to." Soos announced, before looking down at Dipper. "Where have you been, it's been like..decades!"  
Dipper chuckled a little, correcting him. "It's only been a few years, man! I missed you too. I've been up at college- er. Down? But I needed a bit of a brain break. Math was fun until you get past the trigonometry, y'know?  
"SOOS!" A coarse, old voice shouts from the gift shop, footsteps soon following after. "Why are the customers inside? And why am I hearing big math words?" Stan asks, stepping out of the door, outside.  
  
"Hey Grunkle Stan." DIpper smiled, raising a hand for a small wave. Once again, Stan ran up to DIpper, crushing him again in a tight hug. "What are you doin' back here, ya knucklehead? Finally realize college is just the world's best-organized scam or what?" Dipper escaped the hug, wheezing once again. "Ow. No, I just.. missed you guys is all" Dipper chuckled. He really did miss all this horrifically aggressive affection, especially when compared to the cold, unforgiving nature of the campus. "I figured if you havent turned my old attic space into another attraction, I'd like to stay back here a bit."  
Stan's smile faded down, crossing his arms. "This ain't some sort a hotel service, kid." He grumbled coarsely. Dipper should've figured it wouldnt be this easy. This was real life after all, not some fantastical Disney cartoon.

  
"Just kidding!" Stan smiled again, chuckling to himself. "Come on in, bring your stuff." Dipper paused for a moment, before snorting gently, followed by a little giggle. He went to his car, grabbing a few bags, hauling them up the front steps, into the house portion of the shack and dropping them by the steps. Ford, who was busy working on something at the kitchen table, jumped at the sound of the bags dropping on the wood flooring, screwdriver slipping out of his hand. "Hey! Easy with the- Dipper!" Ford got up from his seat, calmly walking over. Dipper flinched as he was hugged again. Thankfully not as painfully as the hugs prior to this. Ford pulled away, suddenly looking at Dipper with a stern expression. "Why arent you in college? It's mid-semester, you could be studying for Sophomore year right now!" Ford scolded before Dipper replied. "Honestly, If I'm gonna get an education, I'd rather get it from someone whose qualifications I've experienced as opposed to my professord who'd show up 30 minutes into the period." Ford smiled, smiling as he stood up straight again. "Fair enough- especially since you know I'm more than able to homeschool you" The brunette nodded, picking his bag back up and hauling it upstairs.

  
Seeing his old summer bedroom practically untouched made him smile just a tad. He threw the bag on his bed, walking over to the window, looking out at the trees. He sighed, breathing in a sudden, slight unease. His brows furrowed, as he felt the urge to go explore. He felt a sort of pull, even, compelling him to the forest. Odd. He guessed it was because he had a few friends in the woods to visit. Yeah, that must be it.

  
"I'll be right back!" Dipper yelled out, skipping down the creaking wooden stairs, gaining a little speed with each step, heart getting more excited with every stride. That was, until, he was halted by a hand pulling the back of his shirt. "Not so fast," Ford muttered. He turned to look at the man speaking to him. "Listen, I... _always_ want to encourage you to go out and explore, but, I want you to exercise a bit more caution for now. Things have really changed since," Ford paused, clearing his throat. "The event took place. Just be careful."

  
Dipper nodded, running back out to his car, enthusiasm not dampened in the slightest. He opened the back, grabbing his backpack and emptying it out of everything except for a book he bound at the beginning of freshman year, back in highschool. He grabbed a blue pen, the end of it chewed so badly that it'd no longer click down. Dipper slung the empty backpack over his shoulder, just in case, taking a deep breath, and heading off into the woods. It felt like home. Like actual, real home- if not just that, a home that would keep him safe.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'd like to thank the few people following this fic from the bottom of my heart. It's been hard getting these chapters out. Ive been doubting myself a bit, especially since this is the first fic I've written in 3 years. But, Thank you for your support.  
> BILL WILL BE APPEARING IN THE NEXT CHAPTER!


	5. Re-ignited

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You do wanna see everyone again, don't you, Dipper?

The little stones on the dirt path were all unceremoniously kicked out of the way as Dipper trekked into the forest, listening to the familiar sounds of woodpeckers tapping against bark. In a way, it was like he'd never left- yet in the same ways, it was like he was there for the first time. He knew these paths by heart, but he had to duck under a few branches that hung a bit low. Damn, did he really get this tall, or were the trees just wilting? He decided to visit a few stops first before anything else. First, the den of the gnomes, who were all making a close-knit village, finding comfort in each other instead of hurting themselves searching for a queen  
  
Next, it was onto The Multi-bear, who was mixing an 80s-themed song titled _'Me, myself and I and I and I and I'_ (with background vocals by himself). Dipper was glad to see he cleared the bones out of the place, replacing them with a few neon lights. Dipper gave his input on the music, despite not knowing much about music theory. He even got the rare chance of seeing Mermando, who said he was only staying for a few days. "Gravity Falls is exhausting. It's constrictive to me." "Oh, I get that. I guess the lake is pretty small compared to the ocean. How's the manatee wife?" Mermando let out a laugh that was more awkward than humorous. "We went our separate ways. Wasn't working out. Her kingdom was switching to democracy anyway, no point in keeping an arranged marriage." "Ah, makes sense. Well, I should get going." Dipper pointed finger guns at the merman. "Catch ya later?"  
The other laughed, before straightening out his expression. "Don't say it like that." "Right, yeah."

Dipper said his goodbyes to his friends, heading off into the woods, finding a tree to lean against. He sunk to the ground, sitting crisscrossed out of reflex. The leaves of the Quaking Aspen fluttered, letting rays of sunset light through them, leaving a mosaic of color on the dirt around the boy. The cold wind that was slowly bringing in the night blew against Dipper's skin, opposing the light that cast warmth onto him. This was what he needed. This was his climate- where he could finally grow. I guess that's why he was called Pinetree, huh? "Was," He muttered out quietly to himself, as a sort of verbal reassurance. He took his poorly bound blue book out, looking around for the pen he'd left in the bag. He instead fished out a bottle of white-out. Right, this was his school bag after all.   
  
There was a little bit left in the bottle. And the front of his book was awfully barren.   
  
He painted his left hand with the whiteout, slapping it on the cover of his book to make a clear handprint. Once he found his pen, he drew a familiar tree in the middle of it. Wiping his hand on his pants, he held the book out in front of him, admiring his work with a smile. he set the book down, looking up at the scenery before him-  
  
That wasn't there before. A stone statue. A stone statue of...  
  
Bill. Dipper jumped back, breath quickening as he scooched backward, thinking the object would reach out to him. But nothing happened. Thank anything- thank anyone, nothing happened. He breathed out a nerve-shook laugh. What a sick joke. What a sick, twisted, fucked up joke. This must've been made right after all that happened too. The thing was stuck in the ground pretty deep. The kick Dipper gave it once he got up wasn't enough to budge it, even. Dipper grabbed his book up off the ground, writing about this encounter a few pages in, leaving room for a little introduction that he'd write later.  
  
His hands were shaking just a little, penmanship getting sloppier than usual as he described the thing: The moss covering the eye of the idol, filling the pupil. The grass dead around the stone. It seemed like nothing living wanted to be near the thing- including Dipper. He took note of the raised hand, untouched. Pristine, even by the nature around it, moss stopping at the wrist. If Dipper didn't know any better, he would've touched it. Thankfully, he was observing from an arm's length away, staring into the eye for a moment. "Yeah, good riddance." He muttered, turning around and walking away from the little clearing.  
  
He continued writing, trying to forget he even saw the damn thing. Dipper flipped a few pages back, beginning to write his introduction on the first page. His heart rate finally began to slow. He hadn't even realized it was beating so fast until now. He also didn't realize the stone arm in the path in front of him before he tripped over it, tumbling in the dirt, book fumbling out of his hands, pen landing in the brush. "Mother of- huh?" He turned, seeing the same triangular statue that he'd just walked away from. This path must've had a roundabout to it. He let out a single, nervous " _Heeh_ ," before grabbing his book and moving on ahead.   
  
The path before him branched off, and instead of taking the left path, he took the right, leading him back to the clearing. He picked up the pace, speedwalking, taking the left path. Back to the clearing. His heart began to sink as he turned around, heading back and retracing his steps ever so carefully until he found himself facing the statue again. He stepped off the path, ducking under branches, tripping over rocks, scraping his knee on gravel as he fell hard onto a dirt pathway. As he lifted his head up, he was eye to eye with the beast again. The lump in his throat finally popped, letting him scream out a painful "Leave me alone!" As he squeezed his eyes shut, tears dripping down his cheeks and onto the ground below him.   
  
"Dipper?" Ford asked, causing the crying boy to take a sharp inhale that pierced through the panic in his lungs. He stood up, turning around and wiping his eyes.   
  
"...I tripped."


End file.
